


in which connor and gavin save a cat and bonding shenanigans occur

by MissDinahDarling



Series: hashtag squad goals [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Cats, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Deserves Happiness, Developing Friendships, Enemies to Friends, Fluff, Gavin Reed Redemption, Gen, Investigations, Mood Indicator Android LEDs (Detroit: Become Human), Other, Platonic Relationships, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Prequel, Protective Gavin Reed, Sassy Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Soft Gavin Reed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 07:18:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17893943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissDinahDarling/pseuds/MissDinahDarling
Summary: Who knew that all it would take for Gavin to get over his internalised prejudice of androids was one tiny kitten?Connor.Connor knew.He was disappointed, but not surprised.





	in which connor and gavin save a cat and bonding shenanigans occur

**THE DETROIT POLICE DEPARTMENT**  
**4.27PM**

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Gavin said flatly, unimpressed as his gaze shifted between Connor and Fowler.

He had been dragged into the captain's office before he even had the chance to indulge in his afternoon coffee – he had just fucking made it too, which meant by the time he was finished with this shitshow, it would be cold. He didn't even get to touch his mug before Fowler demanded his presence from across the bullpen. Connor had already been beckoned, sitting in Fowler’s office like the patient little suck-up he truly was. They hadn't so much as looked at each other since the incident in the evidence locker and that had suited Gavin just fine, but apparently Fowler had other ideas.

Fuck.

Not only was Gavin sans coffee, but now Fowler was also forcing the android’s presence on him too?

What a joke.

“Do I look like I’m joking around Reed?” Fowler asked rhetorically, “the fact of the matter is that Anderson is out with the flu for the second week running and I have a backlog of cases that need solving _yesterday_.”

“How the fuck is that my problem?” Gavin scowled, running a hand through his hair as he thought about the pile of cases on his desk. He already had seven cases on the go – only two could be considered halfway closed, the rest he had barely made a dent in. Gavin would have felt sour about it, but it seemed the entire precinct was experiencing a slump. It happened at certain points of the year, when cases just kept coming in and solving them was pure luck.

Not even their resident robo-cop had helped them avoid it this year.

“It’s your problem, Reed, because we’re a goddamn team,” Fowler explained, jabbing a finger at him aggressively, “and if you want my recommendation for the sergeant exam, then you better start acting like a damn team player!”

Gavin gritted his teeth, biting back the curse on the tip of his tongue.

“Got it,” he forced out, “please, let me know how I can _assist_ – after all, it’s not like I’m drowning in my own cases, what’s adding someone else’s workload to the pile?”

“Do not start with me Reed,” Fowler barked, “you’ll be happy to know that this _is_ about one of your damn cases.”

“Then why the fuck is he here then?” Gavin demanded, gesturing to Connor with a barely-concealed snarl.

“Because one of the cases you’re working on involves bars that hire _androids_ – you know, the case with the stolen liquors? You’ve taken too damn long to get to the bottom of who’s doing this shit, because another bar got broken into today. Connor has kindly offered to assist you, and because I want this case solved _before_ the end of the week, I decided that it would be a waste to not have the pair of you partner up.”

“The fuck?” Gavin bit out, turning to glare at Connor coldly, “what, you think I’m such a crappy cop now, you gotta wade in on my shit, is that it?”

“No, I just overheard you and Officer Chen yesterday, discussing the stress you were feeling from your increasing workloads – I merely suggested to Captain Fowler that I could offer my services if it helped you shift some of your cases,” Connor replied evenly. “I didn’t mean to imply that I was questioning your competency in completing cases.”

“Really?” Gavin questioned dubiously.

“Of course, I do question it often, just not today,” the android added lightly.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Gavin seethed, rearing up in his chair angrily.

“Enough!” Fowler interjected, holding his hand up with an unimpressed glare which he directed at both detectives sitting before him. “This is the goddamn DPD, not a playschool. If I wanted to deal with bickering children all day, I’d visit my sister’s family in Sacramento, got it?”

Gavin scowled but kept silent.

“Of course, Captain, apologies,” Connor replied, ducking his head submissively.

Gavin glared at the android. The asshole was radiating with smug energy – he was even dressed like a self-absorbed prick, with his stupid pink shirt and his stupid blue tie. Since becoming a proper detective, his wardrobe has just exploded with nauseating colours. According to Chris, Anderson had celebrated Connor’s deviancy by burning his uniform and introducing the android to the beauty of marshmallows.

Fucker couldn’t even _eat_ marshmallows.

“Don’t suck up to me son, I don’t have time for that crap,” Fowler said brusquely, holding his hand up as if to halt Connor from speaking any further.

“Right,” Connor noted, slightly taken aback as his LED span yellow.

Gavin growled. “Jesus, enough of this shitshow,” he seethed, “Captain, I don’t need any help with this case – or any of my damn cases, just let me get on with my work!”

Fowler straightened up his chair and rose a brow at the detective. “I would but apparently the detectives and officers of this precinct feel _stressed_ and _under pressure_. As your captain, I have a duty of care towards you. Your mental health is one of my _top_ priorities,” he stressed mockingly, “as it is, I couldn’t possibly let you carry on without the support you clearly require.”

“C’mon, it was just me and Tina talking shit, we weren’t being serious—”

“ _Unfortunately_ , it’s not your mental health that the Deputy Chief gives a shit about! It’s numbers of cases closed, and we are behind our damn ‘quota’,” Fowler interjected sharply, slamming his hands down on his desk, “so you better shove your pride up your ass and accept the damn android’s help!”

Gavin twitched, the vitriolic rant on the tip of his tongue as he watched Fowler pant softly behind his desk. The captain seemed to take several calming breaths before he turned to face Connor with a downwards twist of his lips.

“I _can_ still call you androids, right?” he asked sardonically.

“Ah, yes sir,” Connor replied, his gaze flicking between Gavin and Fowler, “that is perfectly acceptable.”

“Fuck me,” Gavin muttered.

“You’re not my type,” Fowler quipped dryly, “now, you’re gonna do your job and play nice with Connor, ‘cause I really don’t have the time to entertain your bullshit right now.”

Gavin drummed his fingers along his chair, his leg bouncing from agitation.

“It’s not bullshit,” he said lowly, “I just don’t know where the fucking trust has gone.”

Fowler reared up, standing from his chair to slam his hands on his desk, furious, “the trust disappeared when your goddamn _respect_ for me disappeared! When you remember that I am your captain, then _maybe_ I will remember that you are a half-way decent detective who has the potential of becoming sergeant one day!”

Gavin flinched.

“Also, I don’t _trust_ you to interview the goddamn androids, so take Connor and get over yourself,” Fowler finished, settling back into his seat with a deep sigh.

“Fine sir, but I’m fucking offended that you think I won’t be a fucking professional when speaking to the ‘droids,” Gavin said bitterly, his hands clenched into his fists on his lap, “I even signed up to that sensitivity training, doesn’t that count for anything?”

“No, it doesn’t count for shit,” Fowler sniped back, “because it’s _mandatory_ , now get the hell out of my office and solve that damn case!”

* * *

**THE LOCKE AND KEY BAR  
5.02PM**

Connor had driven them in Hank’s car – Gavin’s motorbike wasn’t suitable for two people, and the human refused to get an automated taxi due to monetary reasons.

Though he had complied, Gavin still complained. He had all but thrown himself into his seat and instantly began to critique everything around him. The human made multiple scathing comments on the state of Hank’s car, judging the lieutenant from the hula-girl on his dashboard, to the CDs he found under his seat. Connor had tolerated him for all of two minutes before he threatened to kick the detective out of the car and into the highway.

Gavin surprisingly fell silent, barring one last spiteful mutter about the musky scent of whiskey he could smell. Connor shot him a single warning look, but the detective merely ignored him, winding his window down a crack and glaring stonily at the passing scenery. Connor was completely unsure as how to approach the detective, especially since the last time they interacted, it ended with Gavin knocked out cold on the floor of the evidence locker.

Glancing at him from the corner his eye, Connor carefully scanned the human beside him. Though Gavin's vitals suggested a significant level of stress and anxiety, he was clearly not projecting his violent rage onto Connor, preferring to ignore his very existence instead.

Very well – perhaps this case won't be so painful to solve then. 

They arrived at The Locke and Key bar without another word passed between them.

The bar was in a quieter part of Detroit and appeared to fit the suspect’s MO – an independent establishment owned by humans that had been anti-android, but since the revolution, the owners had a change of heart and began employing androids. It was also in the same part of town as the other bars that had been robbed – each one no more than a mile from the other. The other bars, however, were of a higher calibre than the one they were currently visiting, as they were situated in larger buildings and generally had a more extensive selection of drinks to offer their patrons. This was one was entirely unremarkable, which raised the first red flag of the case. Connor had reviewed the files earlier that day, having been granted access to them from Fowler, and he couldn't help but draw some natural conclusions that even Gavin should have arrived at, had he looked at the case.

The detective hadn’t even _touched_ the files though. Connor didn’t judge Gavin too much for not having his priorities in order, as he was clearly too busy trying to tackle everything else on his plate. However, the fact that the man was so against asking for help was _infuriating_ – the android just didn’t understand why Gavin couldn’t drop his pride for the sake of closing a case and solving a crime.

“Let me do the fucking talking,” Gavin demanded gruffly, before he exited the car and approached the bar without waiting for Connor.

Sighing, the android followed suit, frowning when he spied the broken window of the bar. It was the first instance of vandalism in the series of robberies – every other bar had no trace of breaking and entering, no DNA left behind and no evidence that suggested the suspect could act aggressively. Connor wondered if the culprit was growing desperate – humans often made rash decisions when stressed.

Although, humans tended to leave DNA behind as well.

LED spinning a continuous cycle of yellow, Connor entered the bar after Gavin.

The place was small, with one counter that took up most of the space. Rows and rows of alcohol lined the shelves behind it – none of them looked out of place, or even disturbed. There were tables and booths scattered about, with toilets situated at the far end. In the furthest corner of the bar were a set of free-standing stairs. According to the sign, only staff could access them – they probably led to the staffroom then.

Gavin was examining the empty room with an unimpressed expression, his eyes taking in the broken window briefly as he surveyed the damage. Connor stayed back, giving Gavin the room he needed to feel like he was taking the lead on the case. Instead, the android focused on scanning his environment for clues, his sensors zeroing in on the smashed window. He also noted the lack of stolen goods from the bar and the tills that looked completely unaltered – with the alarms installed in the building, whoever broke the window would have been looking for something quick to steal.

 _If_ they were here to steal anything at all. Judging from the scene before him, Connor found that it didn't match the previous robberies at all.

The thief always made a conscious effort to avoid any alarms, giving them the ample time they required to break into the cellar or the backroom where the rarer stocks were stored and then escape without any notice until it was too late.

Whoever committed this crime could not have been the same person.

“Hey, it’s the police! Anyone in?” Gavin called out, hands on his hips as he impatiently tapped his foot.

Connor examined the room, his gaze zeroing in on the alarm system by the door. There were fingerprints recently left behind on the four digits that disengaged it. The code appeared to be 2029; the fingerprints belonged to one Alexander Layford: no previous conviction, married with a daughter and owner of the establishment.

He must have been here when the incident occurred – so where was he now?

Humming lightly, Connor turned to inform Gavin of what he had discovered, when movement from upstairs drew his attention away. Gavin’s body stilled too, as he peered over his shoulder to watch the stairs with narrowed eyes.

They both waited until a young man appeared, jogging down the stairs with a carefree demeanour, only to falter slightly when he realised that he had visitors. He quickly skipped the rest of the way down the stairs and hurried over to them, wringing his hands nervously as he shot them a quick grin.

“Ah, hi there,” the young man sheepishly greeted with an awkward wave. Connor examined him; he was an AP700 model with short, brunet hair and matching eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in! I mean, technically we aren’t really open, I mean we _are_ , but not right now, ‘cause of the window? I was just, ah, upstairs and, oh! I probably should have locked the door…” the android trailed off, fiddling with the cuffs of his uniform nervously.

Gavin rolled his eyes, unimpressed and a tad irritated. “Ri-ight,” he drawled, peering over his shoulder to raise a brow at the front door and the broken window beside it, “probably _wouldn’t_ have made a difference. Anyway, we’re with the DPD, investigating a series of bar robberies,” he flashed the android his badge, “you the owner?”

The android shook his head, “oh gosh no,” he declined, his smile strained as he stared at Gavin’s badge, “I just work behind the bar – there are five more of us, but I've already messaged them and told them not to come in. That’s why I was upstairs!”

“So, who is the owner and why isn’t he here?” Gavin asked mildly, folding his arms across his chest.

“Oh? Alex! Alex Layford! This has been his place for years,” the android replied, body jerking slightly when his gaze slid past Gavin and landed on Connor. It appeared Connor’s reputation as the dreaded deviant hunter still lingered in the minds of some androids, no matter how much time passed. Though his stress level spiked, the android didn’t react outwardly – instead, he dragged his eyes back to Gavin and gave the detective a weak smile. “I’m Benji, by the way, I only started working here a couple of months ago!”

“Huh, so was _he_ the one who reported the break-in?” the detective inquired, tilting his head as he regarded Benji. To Connor, it looked as if Gavin was scanning the android’s body language – Benji had removed his LED, but his body was an open book. He was a bundle of nerves and Connor’s presence seemed to exacerbate his anxiety.

“O-Oh, well we didn’t get broken into actually, I mean, they broke the window, but they didn't come in,” Benji explained, nodding to the broken window, “it was just vandalism. We have an alarm that automatically calls the police when things like this occur. Alex doesn’t even want to press charges or file a report! Which is super weird, ‘cause I don’t think his insurance will cover the cost of replacing the window…”

“Fucking lying bastard,” Gavin hissed under his breath. Connor was inwardly amused by his quiet outburst – that being said, however, he was also rather impressed by the detective’s demeanour as he questioned the bartender. He hadn’t insulted the android once; Connor wondered if this was a feat that he ought to share with Tina Chen.

Or maybe he ought to take Gavin more seriously next time the man boasted about his skills as a 'professional'.

“Sorry?” Benji asked, tilting his head.

“Not you,” Gavin sighed impatiently, “so when did this shit happen?”

“A few hours ago? Alex was here when it happened – my shift hadn’t started yet,” Benji explained, his gaze fearful when it flicked to Connor, “sorry, I’m not being very helpful.”

“On the contrary,” Gavin countered with a sharp grin, “I appreciate you answering my questions – so, if you didn’t get broken into, I’m gonna guess nothing got stolen.”

“Stolen?” Benji repeated, “oh, no, nothing was touched, sorry, I should have said so before! We don’t really have anything worth stealing? There’s no money left in the till overnight and the alcohol… well, it’s not exactly the best or expensive? It’s just your run-of-the-mill selection of liquor and spirits, you can find them anywhere.”

Interesting.

Connor gave Gavin full reign to interview Benji – he moved away from the pair and approached the window. The hole was large, with long cracks stretching out from the damage. Connor carefully picked his way through the glass on the floor; someone, Benji probably, had attempted at sweeping up the shards, but there was enough left behind to reconstruct the scattered pattern.

He glanced around, searching for the cause of the broken window and paused when his gaze landed on a brick. The object lay atop the bar’s counter – from the way the window had shattered, it seemed to be in an odd position. Connor created several reconstructions, testing out numerous trajectories and none of them fit in with the brick’s current position.

Someone must have moved it.

Walking over, Connor picked the brick up and examined it closely. It had traces of polyester hanging from it – Connor tilted his head and envisioned the brick with string tied around it, holding… a note? He straightened up and regarded the broken window again, this time reconstructing the aftermath.

The window shattered – in Connor’s mind, someone, Alex most likely, came rushing over to investigate. They scooped up the brick and peered out of the window, breaking shards of glass as they tried to chance a glance at whoever had thrown it. They then untied the note, read it and crumpled it up. They stalked back to the bar where they then threw it away in the bin, tossing the brick onto the bar’s counter before they turned off the alarm.

Connor dropped the brick and approached the bin, his gaze scanning the contents before he landed on the note. He quickly glanced up at Gavin and Benji, communicating with his eyes that he wished for the detective to keep the bartender distracted.

It seemed to work, as Gavin began to question Benji on why he chose to work in the bar and whether the android knew how to make a passionfruit martini. Gavin was rather adept at distracting people and he was competent at improvisation.

The android registered these new facts about Gavin – they would come in handy should they be paired together for future cases.

Glancing back to the bin, Connor carefully picked his way through it until he could tug the note out. The contents consisted mostly of broken glass and dust from the ground, so the note was untarnished when Connor smoothed it out.

_I KNoW WhaT YOU DiD_

Oddly, the words were written by a human – evident by the inconsistencies and the crooked lines.

No DNA though – the note was completely clean.

Gloves perhaps?

Connor looked across the street. From the spread of the glass from his reconstruction and the amount of damage caused by the impact, the thrower had to have been aiming from somewhere high. The thrower also had quite the strong arm – either that, or they were an android with a precise aim. Across the street from the bar was a closed-down café, a thrift shop and a bank. The café appeared to have a roof garden, yet it didn’t appear to be accessible from the outside.

Connor slowly pieced the puzzle together, tucking the note into his jeans. If Alex wasn’t going to press charges, then forensics wouldn’t be called out to investigate – better to have the note on him to keep it safe.

He returned to Gavin’s side, picking his way through the odd shards of glance, in time to hear the rest of his interrogation.

“—so your boss just ran out, huh?”

Benji nodded at Gavin, jumping slightly when Connor silently joined them. His expression flickered to fear for a second, before it smoothed out to an almost believable smile.

“Ah, yes, Alex said something about a family emergency, so he needed me to come in and deal with… well, all of _this_. His daughter gets sick often and his wife is away on business a lot, so…” Benji trailed off with a shrug, “I don’t really question it. It’s his private life and he’s stressed enough without my interference.”

Gavin nodded easily, side-eying Connor with subtle disbelief. The detective wasn’t buying Benji’s story, or rather, he wasn’t buying the story of Benji’s boss. Connor inclined his head towards Gavin; he was better off questioning Benji – the android clearly didn’t trust Connor.

Gavin cleared his throat, “so, what’s your boss like? Does he treat you fair, provide you a proper wage, that kinda shit?” he asked, ignoring the bemused look Connor shot him – the android was intrigued by Gavin’s line of questioning. The detective was most likely building an internal character profile of Alex Layford, but it was still odd to hear him suggest that he was invested in the wellbeing of androids.

“Yes, he’s great!” Benji praised, smiling widely, “I get a monthly wage and he’s super nice – he always kicks out any patrons that get aggressive or racist.”

“Go him,” Gavin said dryly, shifting his stance. Connor watched the detective internally debate with himself, pursing his lips when he glanced back up at Benji. “I don’t suppose your boss has his own office? Maybe a backroom – probably doesn’t give anyone else access?”

Benji blinked, confused and uncertain. “I don’t… understand? He doesn’t have an office, but he does a lot of business in the cellar, I guess? Bar staff aren't allowed down there because he has all sorts of confidential work going on. Also, the last time I went down there, I broke three crates of beer. Is that… is that important?”

Gavin shrugged, his eyes gleaming. “Just asking a question – standard procedure, you get it, right?”

Benji nodded slowly, his expression growing a tad worried – Gavin noticed and turned to Connor, the android’s LED spinning yellow as he met Gavin’s look with a nod.

Good – they were on the same page for once. Emotionally precarious civilians were always so easy to lie to and manipulate.

“So,” Gavin drawled, shoving his hands in his pockets as he began to casually amble around the bar, “don’t suppose you’ll let us check the place out. Just common recon, you know how it is.”

“I, ah, I don’t really,” Benji admitted with a sheepish shrug, “I’m not well versed in legal matters.”

Perfect.

“Oh, this is all just normal,” Gavin grinned easily, “we just need to look the place over, we’ll be quick, I promise.”

“The detective is right,” Connor added, catching onto Gavin’s deception easily. “we would like to compare the layout and the size of your establishment with the other bars that have been robbed; if there are any similarities, then it may have been done by the same individual.”

“That… makes sense,” Benji slowly agreed. Though he appeared to mull over Connor's words, he still didn’t appear completely convinced – if anything, he seemed more nervous and conflicted. Connor's presence wasn't helping the situation at hand and Gavin seemed to notice, as the detective was nodding to himself decisively as he contemplated his next move.

Gavin sighed dramatically, making the bartender flinch. “If it’s _too_ much, then I get it,” he said airily, “we’re just trying to follow procedure, that’s all. I’d hate for you to get into _trouble_ , but we’re only attempting to do our job, y’know?”

Benji blinked and if he had the capability, Connor was sure the android would be flushing right now.

“No, no! Feel free to look around,” he insisted, holding his hands up, “I don’t want to obstruct the law or anything, I just don’t want to do anything without Alex’s approval. I really like my job, I don’t want to lose it if I do something wrong.”

“How can it be wrong to help out the law?” Gavin asked, quirking a brow.

Benji appeared to have forgotten about the past wrongdoings the law committed against androids. He seemed to take Gavin’s words seriously, nodding solemnly as he stepped aside. Connor was slightly concerned by how gullible the android appeared to be, but he supposed he was in no position to judge another’s personality.

Hank questioned his all the time, after all.

Eight times out of ten, it was done in jest – the other two only occurred when Connor attempted to wake him before 9.00am.

“Of course,” Benji said earnestly, “just let me know if I can do anything else to help.”

“Sweet, thanks,” Gavin shot him a wicked grin, brushing past him to head towards the back of the bar. Benji sent Connor a terrified glance before he retreated behind the bar’s counter, unwilling to engage Connor in conversation.

Sighing silently, Connor followed Gavin. The detective had made a beeline towards the cellar, the door tucked behind the stairs safely out of the way of Benji’s line of sight. The door was locked with a biometric palm-lock, easy to hack into and override. Gavin was leaning against the wall besides the door with an impatient look on his face.

“So, he’s a total doormat,” the detective snarked, “doesn’t seem to like you much though.”

“Well, I guess that’s two things you have in common then,” Connor retorted, fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt as he regarded the detective with a dry look.

“I ain’t a doormat,” Gavin growled dangerously, his eyes flashing in the dull light.

“No, more of a welcome mat, I suppose,” Connor suggested, “after all, you invite all kinds of trouble to land at your front door.”

“Fucking terrible,” Gavin clucked his tongue, “I ain’t even offended by that shitty insult, it was that bad. Come on, we’re wasting enough time. You gonna hack into this shit, or what?” he asked, cocking his head towards the door.

Connor rolled his eyes. “Well, how could I reject such a politely-worded request?” he responded mockingly. He held his hand up, his synthetic skin peeling back to reveal the white chassis underneath, and pressed it against the door’s lock. Gavin didn’t appear to be the slightest bit phased by the change, although he did raise a single intrigued brow silently.

Connor carefully disconnected the lock’s mechanisms and unpicked the security protocols with precision. The door clicked and opened – he turned to Gavin with a smug grin.

“You’re welcome,” he simpered, his glee outweighing any irritation caused by the detective roughly shouldering past him to jog down the stairs into the cellar. He followed suit, flicking the light-switch to illuminate the contents of the room.

Gavin froze when the lights came on, cursing softly under his breath.

Even Connor had to admit that he was slightly awed by what he saw.

“Well, would you look at what we got here,” Gavin commented with a sing-song lilt, whistling with disbelief as he took in the amount of stolen stock hidden in the cellar. There was a plethora of rare liquors, imported from Europe and Asia, packed away in boxes with labels that clearly outlined the names of the bars they had been sent to.

“Everything stolen seems to be present,” Connor noted, searching the contents for clues. The boxes lacked any fingerprints and the bottles appeared untouched. “I surmise that Alex was stealing these in order to resell them at an inflated price – if Benji is to be believed, then his boss is desperate for money to care for his sick daughter. With one parent away, it must be difficult to run a business _and_ afford care for her. He’s probably a poor liar under pressure, hence his leaving when the incident happened. He wished to avoid a confrontation with us.”

“His motive breaks my heart,” Gavin said dryly, “you think the ‘droid knows anything?”

Connor regarded the detective steadily. “No, I believe Benji is quite innocent in all of this and his boss took advantage of his gullible nature. He wasn’t lying,” he reported.

Gavin nodded. “Yeah, I thought so,” he murmured, kicking one of the boxes lightly, “this is a shit load of cargo to leave behind. Reckon he will come back for it?”

“Most definitely – he doesn’t want to press charges, nor file a report. I believe he fully intends on returning,” Connor said, “if we can somehow convince Benji to not report back that we were in here, Alex may think himself safe and return. Once he’s been lured back, we’ll get the chance to arrest him.”

“Alright,” Gavin smirked, “smartass has a smart plan. Let’s go do some convincing.”

“We still have the vandal to arrest,” Connor pointed out when the detective moved towards the stairs.

Gavin scoffed in return, “like it ain’t fucking obvious? The prick stole from his competition, they clearly got pissed when they realised it was him and retaliated. Bastards probably could've let us in on the goddamn discovery, would've saved us some fucking time. Fuck, I'll have to figure it out when we get back to the precinct, shit, examining all those files will take forever, I can already feel the fucking migraine.”

“Or _I_ could examine the victims in the case files? I’ll be able to scan them for past transgressions as well as psychological profiles, which would give me a good idea as to which ones would most likely retaliate in a violent manner. I’ll draw us up a shortlist of individuals we can interrogate,” Connor offered, “might save us some time as it will only take me a few seconds.”

Gavin groaned, throwing his head back with muttered curse. “Y’know, some hard-ass graft wouldn’t fucking kill you,” he sighed, “but fine, fuck – you do you.”

Connor quirked a brow. “Surely you would want some efficiency to be applied to the case? It would get it solved sooner,” he pointed out, “Captain Fowler would most likely get off your back too, you'd avoid the migraine and you won’t have to work with me for much longer.”

“Jesus, I already told you to do whatever, fuck off,” Gavin snapped, stomping up the stairs to return to the bar where Benji had remained to keep an eye on the broken window. Connor followed him, careful to close the door behind him and hack the lock shut once again. He hoped Alex wouldn’t notice anything out of order; that would put a dent in his plan.

“Yo! Everything looks fine, thanks for letting us scope shit out,” Gavin called out to Benji, “if your boss ain’t gonna press charges, then there’s little else we can do right now.”

The android visibly deflated with relief. “Oh, good,” he breathed, bouncing lightly on the tips of his toes, “is there anything else I can do to help?”

“Well,” Gavin started, dragging the word out with a lilted voice, “there is one favour we have to ask, it’s only small, no need to freak out.”

“Yeah? What can I do?” Benji asked, carefully keeping his eyes on Gavin and making a conscious effort to not let his gaze drift to Connor.

“Well, we want to come back and ask your boss a few questions,” Gavin explained, “but we don’t want him to know we’re coming back. I know he ain’t pressing charges and shit, but if he knows anyone who could’ve done this, it would help us out a lot with our case. Also, if you could keep us snooping around on the downlow, that would be much appreciated.”

Gavin then brightly smiled, leaning against the bar with his elbows, lacing his fingers together so he could prop his chin upon them – Connor wondered if this was his version of ‘sad puppy eyes’. Benji visibly swallowed, shifting under Gavin’s gaze with discomfort.

“I don’t understand,” he said with a small frown, “surely it would be better to tell Alex first?”

Gavin shook his head, “nah, he’d probably get the wrong idea, wouldn’t want to stress him out,” he explained nonchalantly, “trust me, it’s better for him this way.”

“It’s true,” Connor agreed, “I have found that humans are most unpredictable when they are informed of an impending visit from the police – also, it appears he is already under a significant amount of stress, I would hate to add more to his plate.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Benji agreed, nodding to himself as he shrank under Connor’s stare, “okay. How will you know when he’s in?”

Connor attempted a friendly smile, “you can contact us, just let us know when he’s in next and we will drop by,” he said, “we do appreciate any help you can offer us.”

“If it will help…” Benji trailed off, not entirely certain with the plan. “Alex… he isn’t in trouble, is he?”

“No-o,” Gavin reassured, waving his hand at Benji, “he’s fine, we just need to talk to him, off the record and shit, that’s all.”

“Okay,” Benji said again, his troubled expression fading away, “the next time he comes in, I’ll let you know.”

“You’re a good guy Benji-boy,” Gavin grinned, winking at the android. In response, Benji ducked his head and bit his lip, bashful at receiving such blatant praise. The detective seemed smugly amused, turning to Connor to shoot him a wicked grin. “Well, guess we’re done here. Let’s head out.”

With one last lazy salute at Benji, Gavin left the bar. The android gave him a crooked smile which quickly fell from his face when he realised Connor was still in the room. His body froze, his eyes wide with panic as his stress levels rocketed. Connor considered not confronting the android, yet as he moved to leave, he couldn’t help but pause and turn back to face Benji.

He was so tired of androids fearing him.

“You do realise that I am a fully-fledged deviant,” Connor commented lightly, “and that I have broken free of my programming that forced me to hunt androids?”

Benji looked slightly ashamed, glancing away from Connor with furrowed brows.

“I, ah, I’m sorry. It’s just that I used to hear stories about you all the time, about the things you used to do to androids,” Benji confessed, “it’s… hard to forget sometimes. Especially when you’re here, in my bar, right in front of me! You’re just… scary? Like, you were the horror story deviants used to whisper to each other before the revolution. ‘You better be mindful of how you act, or RK800 will come and destroy you’ – you were like the boogieman for androids.”

Connor blinked.

“They exaggerate my actions,” he said, ignoring the spike of pain Benji’s words caused. “I never personally destroyed androids. I merely assisted the law in apprehending deviants when it was illegal for androids to be so. I have changed – as many others have.”

Benji opened his mouth to reply, but Connor wasn’t finished.

“For example, the police,” he persisted, “hurt far more of our kind than I did, and yet you offered Detective Reed far more respect than he probably deserves. If you can afford the police a degree of respect despite their past crimes against androids, surely you can offer me the same accord?”

He was aware that his LED was spinning wildly out of control, yet he couldn’t force it to revert to its default calming blue colour. Connor was riled up and he was stressed, and his HUD was flooded with warning signs – strangely, Benji appeared to visibly relax at the sight of it.

“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” he slowly said, expression torn, “I’m sorry, I never meant to hurt your feelings, it’s just that, well, your reputation proceeds you. But… I can see that I was wrong, so I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t hurt my feelings,” Connor said quickly, flushing horribly as he blinked away the pop-ups in his HUD.

“I clearly did,” Benji pointed out earnestly, “I never really considered the ‘deviant hunter’ as capable of having emotions. I mean, your deviancy and your assistance during the revolution is practically legend, but it’s easy to forget that when rumours of your actions from before still lingers in people’s minds. It’s wrong though, so please accept my apology and my promise to treat you better in future! I’ll even tell my friends to be nicer, should you ever meet them! I’ll even tell my friends to tell their friends! I’ll really get the message out then!”

“I…” Connor trailed off, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the android’s passionate words, “thank you. Not many androids are prepared to change their minds about me, so I appreciate the effort you’re willing to make.”

“No problem,” Benji grinned, his smile genuine and bright, “I’ll let you know when Alex comes back! Have a nice evening now!”

“You too,” Connor returned, offering the bartender a small and genuine smile, despite still feeling slightly stunned.

With a short wave, he left the bar and was pleasantly surprised to find that Gavin had waited for him – the detective didn’t inquire about what had taken Connor so long; rather, he simply nodded at him and began walking back towards the car. Connor briefly contemplated asking Gavin to help him investigate the café, but was distracted when the man suddenly initiated a conversation.

“Think he’ll squeal?” Gavin asked lightly, gazing around the quiet street absently.

Connor considered his question. “No, I am confident that Benji will stay silent on our snooping,” he replied honestly, noting the way Gavin’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

“Good,” Gavin commented, side-eying Connor with a sly grin, “guess we’ll make a crooked cop outta you yet – I'm taking the credit for solving this shit, by the way.”

Connor quirked a brow at the detective. “It's fascinating how you think Fowler will believe you, but it's also interesting how you view yourself as a crooked cop. You’re manipulative and you have a clever way of twisting situations around to your advantage, but I wouldn’t necessarily consider you crooked. You comply with proper legal procedures and though you threaten to roughen up suspects, you very rarely follow up with said threats.”

Gavin scoffed. “Yeah well, some pricks deserve a little rough treatment,” Gavin stated flatly, “rapists, domestic abusers, fuckin' pedophiles… none of them get an easy ride with me.”

“Interesting selection of criminals,” Connor remarked, “yet you offered to ‘rough up’ Carlos Ortiz’s android, a domestic abuse victim—”

“—fuck you, I thought he was just a murderer _and you did too_ —”

“—and yet murderers were not included in your original list,” Connor noted lightly, his LED flicking yellow for a few seconds as he tried to understand Gavin’s logic.

“Yeah well, some things are worse than dea— _holy_ _shit_ ,” Gavin gasped faintly, “stop, Connor, fucking stop.”

The android froze in place, head snapping around to stare at Gavin incredulously. The human’s voice had never sounded so soft, his body instantly dropping into one of submission. He was gazing down the alleyway with his hands up, body crouching low to the ground. His movements were slow and cautious as he moved deeper in the alleyway.

Connor frowned as he followed Gavin – his eyes scanning their surroundings until they landed on a small creature, tucked behind a dumpster and mewling out for help. His sensors informed him that it was kitten, malnourished and severely dehydrated. It appeared to have a few superficial injuries and a worrisome bitemark on one of the legs that seemed to be infected.

“Detective Reed, it needs emergency care,” Connor stated, “I can contact a local veterinary that does house calls? I’m sure they will assist us, despite this not being an actual house to call at, just give me a minu—”

“Connor, do me a favour and shut the fuck up,” Gavin ordered heatedly, glaring up at him with disapproval. After a moment, the detective turned his attention back to the cat, his stony look melting away into the sweetest expression Connor had ever seen on the human’s face. Gavin’s demeanour was entirely nonthreatening – he approached the kitten slowly, holding his hand out whilst making soft noises with his tongue.

The kitten cowered away, crying louder when she spied the human advancing upon her.

“No, it’s okay baby, you’re okay,” Gavin cooed, pausing in his approach to sit on the alleyway floor instead. He shrugged his jacket off, placing it onto the ground in front of him, leather facing downwards. Connor blinked as he watched Gavin willingly dirty his jacket for an alley-cat. “No one’s gonna hurt you baby, you’ll be okay.” His voice was soothing, gentle and encouraging, as he held out his hand again.

“The cat is a female ragdoll,” Connor murmured, “she appears to be eight weeks old.”

Gavin clucked his tongue, his expression pained as he registered Connor’s words.

“Fuck, I wish I had some food, she’s probably starving,” he sighed, leaning forwards with a small pout on his lips. "Damn, look at her leg! Poor baby's injured, who'd hurt a pretty girl like you, huh?"

Connor wasn’t sure why, but he wanted to help. Gavin had been nothing but an aggressive bully but seeing this new side of him had Connor reconsider what he knew about the human. He glanced around the street, his LED spinning yellow for a moment.

“There is a store two blocks down,” Connor reported, “give me a few minutes, I will be back with suitable nourishment.”

“Suitable nourishment,” Gavin scoffed, “I’ll be the judge of that.”

Connor ignored him and took off in the direction of the store. As he ran down the street, he absently heard Gavin inform the kitten, in graphic detail, of what he would do to the android should he return with goods that were less that satisfactory for such a 'pretty kitty'.

Connor snorted.

Gavin Reed had quite the imagination.

* * *

**THE LOCKE AND KEY BAR  
** **6.43PM**

“Detective Reed,” Connor called out, “I’ve got some food and water for her!”

Gavin was still sat on the ground, keeping his gaze on the kitten. The creature had stopped crying out, but she remained under the dumpster, her ears pinned back as she stared back at Gavin. It was odd that she hadn’t attempted an escape, but Connor guessed she was trying to intimidate Gavin into leaving first.

He wasn’t overly familiar with the behaviour of felines, so he couldn’t be certain.

“Hand it over,” Gavin ordered, “I can hear her stomach rumbling from over here.”

Connor rolled his eyes but passed Gavin the items from his jacket.

“You’re welcome,” he griped as Gavin took the packet of chicken from him. It had been quite difficult finding food that wouldn’t upset a starving kitten's stomach, especially as the store didn’t cater to animals, but after reviewing the internet, he found that plain chicken would be the safest food to feed her. Connor has also bought a bottle of water, hoping that Gavin had something suitable that the kitten could drink from.

The detective ignored him, dragging his eyes away from the kitten to the food in his hands.

“The _fuck_ is this?” Gavin asked incredulously, turning the packet over in his hands, clearly unimpressed by Connor’s purchase. He wrinkled his nose as he read the ingredients, “this is more modified than my fucking bike, Jesus, I wouldn’t feed this to my dying grandmother!”

“I ran two blocks to procure these items for you,” Connor scowled, “I don’t think you are in any position to judge.”

Gavin scoffed, tearing the lid off the packet and reaching into to pick up a chunk.

“Whatever,” he muttered, tearing the chunk up into smaller pieces, “pour some water into this.” He pulled out an empty mint tin from a pocket in his jeans and tossed it to the android. He grumbled to himself when Connor caught it smoothly without a single fumble.

Once he had torn the chicken chunks up to a satisfactory level, he held one between his fingers and tossed it towards the kitten. He had aimed for it to fall just a few inches away from the kitten’s paw and watched with pride when the kitten sniffed it out with a wet, pink nose. He heard Connor sit down next to him, the tiny water-filled tin held protectively in his grip.

“Place it down on the jacket,” Gavin instructed, “and watch.”

He began tossing pieces of chicken carefully, each piece landing closer to him than the last. His aim was calculated, the chicken never landing to close to the kitten to spook it, but never too far that it scared the kitten to approach it. Connor watched in silence, his LED glowing softly in the corner of Gavin’s eye.

He tossed the chicken until it landed close to the water-filled tin box, the kitten eagerly approaching on clumsy legs. She lapped at the water enthusiastically, her little face soaking wet as she ducked her head into the tin. Connor reached out hesitantly, freezing when Gavin hissed at him.

“Too soon, you’ll scare her,” he warned, “you gotta let her come to you, got it?”

He tossed a couple more pieces of chicken, letting them lead up to his hand, where the rest of the chicken lay waiting. The kitten’s attention quickly switched from the water to the food, her little body trembling as she ambled towards the next treat. Her little pink nose nudged at the chicken before she snatched it up with her tiny maw. Gavin held perfectly still, his hand unwavering as the kitten followed the chicken trail.

Connor watched with wide-eyes as the kitten slowly sniffed at Gavin’s hand, seeing the chicken that lay in the middle of his palm. The kitten’s tail twitched from side-to-side, her ears slowly twisting back as she hesitantly pawed at his fingers. Her claws came out and dragged along his digits, but Gavin barely blinked. Satisfied that she wasn’t going to get hurt, she hoisted herself up onto her back legs, resting her front paws on Gavin’s palm as she picked at the chicken presented to her.

Carefully, Gavin crooked his little finger upwards and gently stroked it through the kitten’s fur. The tiny creature paused for a second, ears pinning back when it registered the touch, but Gavin merely held still. He didn’t pull his finger away, he just waited until the kitten realised he wasn’t a threat. She seemed to sense that he meant no harm as she padded further into his hand, her small body just a touch bigger than his palm. Gently, Gavin used his other hand to trail his fingers delicately along her bony spine, the digits barely brushing against her skin.

She made short work of the chicken, her rough tongue scraping up any morsels left behind, her teeth sharply nipping at Gavin’s palm.

“Demanding,” Gavin murmured fondly, glancing over at Connor and motioning towards the packet of chicken with his head, “give her some more, fuck knows how long ago she ate.”

Connor’s gaze dropped to the packet, frowning slightly.

“I wouldn’t want to scare her,” he said worriedly, “she appears unreceptive to additional attention.”

Gavin snorted softly. “Look at her,” he directed, “she’s more hungry than scared right now, just drop some chicken near her, she’ll be fine.”

Connor couldn’t fault such confident logic – he reached into the packet and began shredding the chunks into smaller pieces. Once he was happy the kitten wouldn’t choke, he sprinkled some of the pieces onto the ground. The kitten’s head snapped up, her nose twitching as she scented more food. She clumsily threw herself off Gavin’s palm, flinging her body towards the food without a second thought.

Connor saw a warning signal pop-up in his HUD, informing him that his optical units were drying out and that he really needed to blink to regain some lubrication. He was disinclined to look away for a second though, lest he miss a single moment of this tiny creature.

After forcing a shutdown on the pop-up, Connor hesitantly reached over to touch her back; his LED swirled yellow as he had second-thoughts however, and he paused, retracting his hand with a resigned sigh. Gavin scoffed at him and rolled his eyes.

“Just fucking brush your fingers across her back,” he encouraged in his typically abrasive manner, “focus on the bottom of her spine, cats love that shit.”

The android finally blinked, shocked by Gavin’s words – he nodded slowly, before following Gavin’s instructions carefully. He reached out with a single finger and pressed it lightly to the kitten’s bony back. Her fur was delightfully soft in a way that was unlike Sumo’s. He felt across the knobs in her spine before he reached the point where her tail began. Connor gingerly started to scratch, fascinated when the kitten arched her rump up, leaning into his touch.

“She… she’s _purring_ ,” Connor whispered in awe.

“No fucking shit,” Gavin stated, bemused, “she’s probably in heaven right now.”

“I wonder where she came from,” Connor mused, sprinkling more pieces of chicken on the ground, “it’s a shame that we found her in such a state.”

Gavin shrugged. “Lucky for her, she doesn’t have to stay here anymore,” he responded, leaning forwards to gently rub behind the kitten’s ears.

Connor glanced up. “Are we taking her with us?” he asked in a carefully neutral voice, a spark of excitement growing in the back of his mind.

“You wanna leave her behind?” Gavin asked with a raised brow.

“No,” Connor quickly replied.

“Good,” the detective stated, “let’s get moving then.”

Connor watched, fascinated, as Gavin scooped the little cat up, one hand around her chest, the other under her rear. The kitten cried out sharply, scared by the sudden touch, her little claws coming out to pierce Gavin’s skin. The man didn’t even flinch, just hushed her and cooed out promises not to hurt her.

The detective then placed her back into the middle of his jacket, moving the tin out of the way so he could carefully wrap it around her tiny body. She mewled and hissed out, but settled when Gavin released a series of erratic kissing-style noises. He bundled her up and pressed her against his chest, nuzzling down to let her scent at his neck.

“You’re very good with cats,” Connor commented, adding this newly discovered information into the mental folder he had for Gavin.

“Shit ain’t rocket science,” Gavin grumbled, butting his head against the kitten's tenderly, “just gotta treat them with respect.”

Connor noted how easily it was for the detective to respect cats, when treating humans and androids with something that resembled common courtesy seemed like such an alien concept to him.

“Do you have previous experience with cats?” Connor asked, standing up. He held out a hand to assist the detective, but Gavin simply scowled at him and managed to get to his feet by himself.

“Obviously, I got my own cats at home,” he revealed with a half-hearted shrug, “not that you’d appreciate that shit, fucking dog person that you are.”

Connor ignored him. “I didn’t know that – I’ve never seen cat hair on you,” he noted, a slight crease appearing between his brows.

“I have a lint-roller in my desk,” Gavin explained, teasing the cat with his fingers, “Chris is allergic to cats, so I gotta get rid of that shit so he doesn’t fucking die.”

“I highly doubt his reaction would be so severe,” Connor disputed.

“Oh my god,” Gavin breathed, closing his eyes from despair.

“How did you learn to be so adept with cats?” Connor inquired, switching the subject when he sensed Gavin’s mood dropping, “dogs are so easy, yet cats… are not.”

“Trial and error, obviously. Why do you think I got so many scars?” Gavin asked wryly, his eyes opening with a smug gleam, “some assholes think my dad beat the shit outta me, or I got them in some crappy bar fight. Truth is, I got them from my cats – by the way, you tell anyone this shit, and I’ll dismantle your ass and turn you into the world’s most expensive litter tray, got it?”

“Message received loud and clear,” Connor said, reaching over to press a gentle finger to the kitten’s forehead, “though I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t take all of me to create one small litter tray.”

“The rest I’d use for target practice,” Gavin growled, “now fuck off with your sass.”

“Apologies detective,” Connor said dryly, “but sass appears to be my default setting. Now excuse me, whilst you appear to be at home in this alleyway, I personally have developed a distaste for it. I’ll be in the car if you need me.”

He turned and began to leave the alleyway without waiting for the detective’s response.

“Fuck, wait,” Gavin called out, gazing down the alleyway with torn eyes, “you can scan for bodies, right? Can you see if there’s anymore? Like, her mom or some shit?”

Connor paused, peering over his shoulder to regard Gavin steadily. The man seemed truly worried, so Connor found it easy to accept his request. It was quick to scan the alleyway, but disappointing to absorb the results.

“There are no more cats that I can find,” he reported, “although there are a few rats. They most likely caused the damage found on her leg.”

Gavin muttered a dark curse and hoisted the kitten further up his chest. “Orphan baby, huh?” he mused, “that’s a shit break – c’mon, we should get a move on and head back.”

“You’re going to return to work with her in tow?” Connor asked, frowning down at the cat. He had honestly thought that work would be the last thing on Gavin’s mind – rather, he believed the man to drop everything to go back home with the kitten.

“Nah,” Gavin shrugged, turning to return back to their car, “there’s this vet I know, real fucking good one too, they ain’t far from here so I can make a quick detour on the way back to the precinct. They normally keep the animals overnight to observe them, making sure they ain’t got anything wrong with them. They’ll ring me tomorrow if she’s good to go home with me.”

“You’re going to keep her then?” Connor asked, despite already knowing the answer.

Gavin span around sharply, incredulous and clearly offended by Connor’s question.

“Obviously I’m fucking keeping her – no one else would be good enough,” he responded arrogantly, although Connor presumed that, just this once, he had a right to be so conceited.

“I believe that,” Connor said, inwardly amused by the sharp red flush that creeped up Gavin’s neck, “with your extensive knowledge of cats, you'd be a perfect owner – she’s very lucky you found her.”

Gavin looked at him askance – his flush had now reached his ears and cheeks, the skin almost glowing from embarrassment. “Don’t try and butter me the fuck up,” he snarled back, “I’m still claiming the credit for solving our case.”

“You can keep the credit for solving _our_ case,” Connor stressed teasingly, “but only if I get to accompany you to the veterinary.”

Gavin scowled. “Well no fucking shit,” he snapped back, “you fucking drove us here and I sure as shit ain’t getting an automated taxi back from here, shit’s expensive, I told you!”

Connor withheld a smile as he watched the human turn on his heel and march off towards Hank’s car. He gave the street one last cursory scan, feeling confident that the vandal most definitely threw the brick from the café’s roof garden. He would have liked to have checked it out, but —

MISSION: DRIVE DETECTIVE REED TO THE VETERINARY

— he had other matters more pressing at hand. 

Nodding to himself, he approached the car and opened the door. As he sat in the driver’s seat, he made a mental note to readjust the seat once Hank was well enough to drive himself again.

Gavin carefully entered the car, keeping the kitten upright as he slid into the passenger seat. He shifted into a more comfortable position before reaching across to close the door. The kitten appeared to grumble quietly as she was jolted around, but Gavin merely hushed at her as he fidgeted about.

“What’s the name of the veterinary?” Connor asked, inserting the keys to ignite the engine once the detective finally got comfortable. Gavin carefully maneuvered the seatbelt around his body, making sure the kitten wasn’t getting crushed or pinned down.

“It’s, uh, it’s called ‘Pawsitively Purrfect Vets’,” he replied hesitantly, keeping his gaze averted when Connor turned to quirk a brow at him.

“How im-paw-sibly adorable,” Connor commented lightly.

“Don’t you fucking _dare_ ,” Gavin warned dangerously.

“A-paw-logies, I couldn’t resist – it was such a good op-purr-tunity,” Connor winked.

“Stop.”

“You’re right, these are getting rather pawful.”

“I _will_ shoot you – prison will be worth it,” Gavin hissed.

Connor ducked his head to hide his smile, his eyes scanning the road as he pulled the car out and began their journey towards the veterinary. Gavin’s vitals showed a spike of irritation but the urge to prod at him was too great to resist.

“You should really reconsider your bad cattitude,” Connor murmured, “it might rub off on her.”

“Stop the fucking car, I’m jumping out!” Gavin demanded, throwing his head back against the headrest with a scowl. Connor laughed and turned to face the detective with an apologetic smile.

“Forgive me, it was too fun to resist,” Connor said, turning back to face the road.

“You ain’t sorry in the slightest,” Gavin muttered lowly, “but you fucking will be if you tell anyone about this shit, got it? No one needs to know about this. If Fowler asked what took so long, then let’s just tell him that the guy we spoke to was being uncooperative or some shit, okay?”

“Of course,” Connor acquiesced easily, “I promise, this can stay between us.”

“No fucking shit it stays between us,” Gavin retorted, shuffling further down his seat to lovingly press his nose against the kitten’s. The kitten seemed to enjoy this action as her little tongue flicked out and scraped against the tip of Gavin’s nose.

The car fell silent as Connor followed the directions in his mind, the roads oddly quiet in the early afternoon. He took the opportunity to look up Pawsitively Purrfect Vets and found nothing but sparkling reviews, praising the practice for its professional workers and the sensitive handling of the animals brought to them. Their files on their patients were locked behind numerous security walls and Connor made the decision not to touch them.

He had already made great progression with Gavin, he didn’t need to invade his privacy any further.

“Y’know,” Gavin started nonchalantly, his quiet voice amplified in the silent car, “she needs a name.”

Connor froze in his seat, his thirium pump skipping a beat at the implications behind Gavin’s words. He wondered if this was Gavin’s attempt at an olive branch, subtly disguised behind an innocent question.

“You would let me name her?” he asked, feeling slightly skeptical despite the excitement he could feel building within his body.

“So long as it ain’t something shitty,” Gavin replied, rubbing his chin against the kitten’s forehead when it cried out for attention. The human appeared to have an endless amount of patience for the creature.

Connor bit his lip, regarding the small animal in the detective’s arms. She was small and fluffy, with a pair of bright blue eyes that peeked beneath a mass of rich chocolate brown fur. Connor had never named something before, and he glanced around for inspiration. He passed over the air-freshener (it was shaped like a guitar and smelled like spiced apples), his eyes lingering on the chocolate wrapper on the floor (Hank was secretly snacking again), before he landed on an old coffee cup. He blinked at it, his eyes flickering between the paper cup and the kitten. It seemed appropriate and Gavin could surely appreciate the comparison.

“Coffee Bean,” Connor stated, a small smile on his lips.

“You fucking _what_?” Gavin asked in disbelief.

“Her name,” Connor replied patiently, “should be Coffee Bean.”

Gavin appeared to sigh with his whole body, slumping over in his seat with a bitten-off curse. He glanced down at the kitten, carefully brushing the fur away from her eyes as he mulled over Connor’s suggestion. Then, with an inaudible mutter of defeat, Gavin looked up at him.

“You’re fucking with my system, y’know that?” he asked, resignation clear in his voice.

“I’m sorry?” Connor asked, cocking his head.

“Fuck off,” Gavin replied, holding the cat up to his face with a soft smile on her face, “Coffee Bean, huh? You like that baby, you like having such a fancy-fucking-long-ass name?” he cooed, nudging his nose against Coffee Bean’s, chuckling lowly when she nipped at him.

“Feisty – you’ll fit right in,” Gavin smirked, settling the kitten back against his chest.

Connor smiled at the sight, savouring this small moment of Gavin’s humanity shining through his rough exterior. The man seemed like a completely different human, his behaviour a complete 180° from what Connor was familiar with.

He couldn’t imagine _this_ Gavin ever threatening him with a gun or punching him in the stomach.

This man seemed perfectly harmless, it was almost endearing.

“I hope you realise that I will wanting visitation rights, Detective,” he jested, feeling confident that Gavin wouldn’t respond negatively to some teasing, “and I expect to be given daily updates regarding her progress – and there better be photos too accompanying those reports.”

“Sure,” Gavin acquiesced with a smirk, “just as soon as the child support starts rolling in. I’m a single mom Connor, you can’t just hang me out to dry.”

“I’m sure we can work out a system,” Connor remarked, grinning openly, “after all, I’d hate for the mother of my child to be left destitute without my support.”

“Fuck off,” Gavin replied with a soft snort.

They fell into an easy silence, the only sounds coming from Hank’s car as Connor drove them towards the veterinary, and the kitten as it made muffins in Gavin’s jacket. The man didn’t seem bothered however, his gaze fond as trailed over the kitten’s features. His grip never faltered, and he appeared to be stroking the kitten’s body through the jacket’s material. The kitten couldn’t possibly feel it through the thick leather, so Connor theorised that the action was more soothing for Gavin than it was for Coffee Bean.

GAVIN REED: NEUTRAL

Connor blinked – the new designation had lit up in his HUD without his consent. He supposed this would be as good a place to start as any in fostering a new and more positive relationship with the detective. Gavin didn't outwardly foster a grudge towards him regarding their fight, but neither had he apologised for his abusive behaviour – baby steps, Connor mused, he was sure that with careful persistence, Gavin would come to drop his hostile attitude towards him.

It would require patience though – a  _lot_ of patience.

“Detective Reed,” he began, breaking the fragile silence with newfound confidence, “I hope you are aware that, so far, our partnership has been rather successful. We’ve cracked a case in record time, made significant progress with another _and_ saved the life of an endangered civilian. I have half a mind to suggest to Captain Fowler that we partner up more – you never know, it may even lead us to being _friends_.”

Gavin snorted, barely noticing when Coffee Bean swiped at his face with a determined paw.

“Over my dead body, you plastic prick.”

* * *

**HANK’S HOME  
** **10.32PM**

Hank was still asleep when Connor returned home.

Once Sumo had been walked and fed, Connor sat on the sofa and reflected on the day he had shared with Gavin Reed. Patting the cushion next to him, Connor welcomed Sumo’s heavy and warm weight with a smile. The dog whined until he was satisfied with how much of Connor’s body he had covered, his tail wagging lazily against the sofa. Connor buried his hands into the thick fur and felt his biocomponents slowing down, readying his mind for stasis. Though he tended to enjoy every part of his day, Connor found that he yearned for this particular moment where he could sit with Sumo and simply review his memories.

Over the course of his deviancy, Connor had found that there were many endearing facets of humanity. His favourite, however, had to be their everlasting adoration for the animals they adopted into their lives. Connor could see the appeal of having a companion who showed unconditional love and affection, without any expectations of reciprocation.

Hank adored Sumo – it was evident in how he prioritised Sumo’s health and wellbeing over his. He always ensured that Sumo had enough to eat, had a new toy bought for him at least once a week and the dog even had the luxury of sleeping in Hank’s bed every so often. In return, Sumo offered Hank companionship and stability. The dog never judged him for his actions or demanded that Hank change and be better. He was a silent rock that supported Hank – he barked out when Hank had left a door closed between them for too long and he always woke his human up whenever he suffered a nightmare. He was a perfect creature and Connor adored him greatly.

He wondered if Gavin received the same support from his cats.

From what Connor had researched, dogs were naturally more open and loving with their owners, soaking up all the attention they could and reciprocating it with great enthusiasm. Cats, however, were not so receptive. They were fiercely independent, and all affection, given or received, had to be on their terms.

It made sense, Connor supposed, that they were the choice of pet for Gavin.

Glancing over his shoulder, Connor observed Hank’s bedroom door. The man was still softly snoring, utterly dead to the world. Knowing that he would be uninterrupted, Connor reached over to Hank’s tablet and began to search.

_Gavin Reed DPD_

_Gavin Reed cats_

_Gavin Reed cats pets_

_Gavin Reed coffee bean_

_Gavin Reed coffee bean cats pets DPD_

Connor scowled at the lack of fruitful results he was receiving. He tapped the tablet with an impatient finger, his LED lazily swirling yellow. Sumo gruffly huffed next to him, nudging his head into Connor’s stomach.

“I know, I’m getting frustrated too,” he murmured, “I don’t even know why I’m even doing this.”

Sumo huffed again, his tail landing against the sofa with a dull thud as he pawed at Connor’s leg.

“Maybe you’re right,” Connor mused, scratching Sumo’s head absently, “I need to look at this from a different angle.”

Connor began a new search.

_Tina Chen DPD_

Bingo.

Tina had no privacy settings on most of her social media platforms. More importantly, her Instagram account was public. Her small profile photo showed her at the gym, throwing up a peace sign in the mirror as she was surrounded by weights and medicine balls. The rest of her photos followed the same pattern – Tina, loving her life and documenting it via a series of bright and exciting photos. Connor scanned her Instagram quickly, grinning victoriously when he landed on a tagged photo of Gavin and Tina. He tapped on Gavin’s tag and frowned when he found that the man had hidden his entire account. His tiny profile picture gave nothing away either: it was just a black-and-white selfie, his gaze sultry as he smirked wickedly at the camera. It was, admittedly, an attractive photo, but Connor found that it clearly demonstrated the man’s arrogant nature. Sighing impatiently, he clicked back to Tina’s page with an overwhelming feeling of defeat.

He resumed scratching at Sumo’s head, sharply flicking through Tina’s Instagram with a frown. Gavin must have hidden all his social media platforms – it would be impossible to just search for them on the internet. 

Just as he was about to give up and allow his mind to fall the rest of the way into stasis, he fell upon a photo that had his thirium pump beating wildly. On Tina’s account was a candid photo of the detective asleep on a sofa, his arms wrapped around something tiny and black. It had a tail that just peeked out from beneath Gavin’s biceps, the rest of its body covered by a twisted Hello Kitty blanket and two protective arms. The caption read: _my baby with his baby <3_

Connor tapped the image with a grin – two tags appeared. One belonged to Gavin, the other belonged to an account named _kutthroatkittens_. The name was an exact replica of Gavin’s contact name in Tina’s phone – he wondered which one came first. Connor shook his head, wanting to concentrate on one investigation at a time. His body almost vibrating from anticipation, Connor tapped onto the tag and almost combusted from what he saw.

The profile picture showed a human’s hand and a cat's paw pressed together in a high-five. The short biography read: _rescue cats that rescue me <3; _Connor had to bite back a soft gasp of shock. Gavin clearly adored his cats almost as much as Hank loved Sumo.

The entire account was dedicated to three cats: a black domestic short-hair, a large ginger Tom and a small Scottish fold. Every photo appeared to have been taken lovingly, with every angle carefully chosen to optimise the lighting and space that surrounded each cat. Sometimes they appeared together, but it was apparent that Gavin also allowed each one to own the spotlight without its siblings. The man himself appeared in a few photos – selfies in front of mirrors where he kissed their heads, or his face buried in their fur whilst they lounged around in bed together.

As Connor greedily flicked through the photos, he noticed something which started to irritate him. No matter what caption Gavin gave every photo, never once did he reveal the names of the cats. The comments were less than helpful as well – Tina merely responded to each photo with a series of heart-related emojis, whereas Chris continuously wrote ‘ _my faaaaave_ ’ under every image of the ginger Tom.

Gavin was clearly hiding something – he even went so far as to tell random strangers to fuck off when they commented on his photos and demanded that he reveal his cats’ names. He wondered what names the detective had bestowed upon his pets to be so viciously guarded when questioned. Connor began to ponder if Tina would know, when his eyes spotted something else about the cats. He paused on one particular image of the Scottish fold, frowning as he spied a missing leg. He flicked to the next image. The ginger Tom’s face had a wicked scar slashing it, with a docked tail that looked like it had been done years ago. His frown deepened when he realised that the little black one only had one eye. He hadn’t noticed the injuries before – his mind too preoccupied with the shock of learning that Gavin had an ounce of empathy in his body. Now that he had, effectively, snapped back into detective-mode, he couldn’t help but scan and register each new detail of Gavin’s cats.

Connor tapped the screen once, before flicking his finger across the page to close it down.

Gavin, whilst incredibly hostile, aggressive and downright abusive, did not actually demonstrate such behaviour towards animals. From what Connor had seen, the man took greater care and consideration with cats than he did with his own kind. Reflecting on the day he had just experienced, Connor had to wonder if Coffee Bean was the first cat that Gavin had rescued on the job.

He wondered if th—

WARNING: ENERGY LEVELS LOW. PLEASE ENTER STASIS TO RECOVER POWER

Connor clucked his tongue, closing the pop-up with a slow blink.

It _was_ getting late and he had wasted quite a substantial amount of time investigating Gavin’s private life. Before he entered stasis, however, he took the tablet up and opened the _kutthroatkittens_ Instagram account one last time. He blinked in shock as he registered a new post that had suddenly appeared on the feed. It was of Coffee Bean, her small face buried under Gavin’s jacket. He had clearly taken it at the vet’s, the small creature resting on a silver table, her face reflected blurrily in the metallic surface. Gavin had altered it slightly though, turning the image black-and-white but keeping the kitten’s shockingly blue eyes in full colour.

Connor bit back a smile as he tapped on the photo, his thirium pump almost freezing in his chest when he read the caption.

_newest baby has cattitude ;)_

**Author's Note:**

> connor: i have adopted a cat  
> hank: what the fuck  
> connor: she's with her mother, detective reed  
> hank: what the fuck  
> connor: he has custody, but don't worry, i'm working on a case for visitation rights  
> hank: whAT THE FUCK  
> connor:  
> hank:  
> connor: her name is coffee bean


End file.
